


A Cruise Night Masquerade

by wolfiefics



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute little one shot, M/M, Marvel Happily Ever After Harlequin Hoopla 2020, buff steve, everyone's a civilian, no powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22782295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfiefics/pseuds/wolfiefics
Summary: When his cruise ship hosts a masquerade ball, Steve meets a very handsome stranger. It is indeed some enchanted evening…
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 77
Collections: MHEA Harlequin Hoopla Prompt Challenge 2020





	A Cruise Night Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> This is my little fluffy one-shot for the Prompt 17: masquerade for the MHEA Harlequin Hoopla 2020. Hope it brings a bit of fluffy warmth to you!

Steve let his friend, Natasha Romanov, settle the lion mask on his face, the silk whiskers tickling his cheek as she fixed the slant of it. She said he needed to be a lion to go with his jungle grace and golden features. He thought she was full of shit, talking him into this to begin with.

He hadn’t wanted to go on the cruise. Being cooped up for days on end on a ship, only let loose for a few hours at port for an amended, brief look at their stop was his idea of hell. If he wanted to read by a pool everyday of his vacation he could do that at the local pool in the summer.

“There,” Natasha tweaked the mask one more time and stepped back to give him a satisfied perusal. “You look majestic.”

“You’re so full of shit, Nat,” he sighed. “Can we get this over with?”

Nat compressed her lips into a thin line that told Steve she was holding back a biting retort and momentarily felt bad about his churlishness. His last breakup had been hard on him but over several months ago. This cruise was Nat’s way of getting him out of his comfort zone and to try something he’d never done before and was fun.

“I’m sorry, Nat,” he apologized with a sigh.

Her expression softened and she patted his muscular chest sympathetically. “If you suffer through tonight I won’t say another word when you complain about how short our land parties are the rest of the trip.”

He’d actually wanted, at the last port in St. Lucia, to see one of the old colonial forts. The idea of lone Spaniard troops and colonists defending the island from pirates captured his writer’s imagination. This trip, he had to admit, was sparking the ideas of a historical, something he’d always wanted to write.

“Deal,” he told her with a grin she couldn’t see behind his lion mask. He knew she heard it in his voice, for she returned the smile and settled her own black leopard mask on her face. Her slinky black, sequined dress had a black tail that hit around the back of her knees. A sexy cat costume for the rich and famous.

Nat was in advertising, sort of. She was a personal assistant to the CEO of one of Madison Avenue’s most successful ad agencies. She made a lot of money but her hours were ridiculous. She almost didn’t make this cruise, as her boss went ballistic when he realized he’d have to do without her organizational skills for a whole two weeks. She told Steve with glee that she’d informed her boss either he did without her for two weeks or forever, because she had a ton of job offers weekly she’d be happy to look into. Her boss had shut up and granted her the time off.

Steve tugged the golden, velvet suit jacket more comfortably over his broad shoulders and decided this was as good as it was going to get. He held a gentlemanly arm to his best friend, which she took, and escorted her from their shared room.  
The ballroom where the masquerade was being held was a glitter with paper vines, tall blow up trees, and the audio sound of monkeys and birds crying out. The theme was Jungle Fever. Steve had told Nat that lions didn’t live in the jungle but she countered that everyone knew the lion was the King of the Jungle and to go with it.

They had by far the most elaborate and well put together masks, Steve thought, with an inward laugh. Everyone else’s ranged from paper masks that looked like had been made by their children or grandchildren, to the cheap masks picked up at any department store during Halloween. As the cruise left from New Orleans, Nat had hit up one of the Mardi Gras stores for she and Steve’s mask.

They found their assigned table to find a man sitting there with an elaborately crafted peacock mask. Steve unconsciously perused the man’s muscular physique and noted the penetrating blue-gray eyes peering at them from behind the mask.

“Hello!” the man said cheerfully. “You must be my table buddies.”

Nat regally bowed her head as she answered, “Indeed. I love your mask.”

The man reached up and adjusted it slightly. “Thanks. Got it in Venice a few years back. Wore it for Carnivale. Never got much chance to use it afterwards. Peacocks are technically Indian jungle birds so it worked out.”

The man’s voice was husky and deep, making Steve’s insides do all kinds of crazy things. He imagined the man was as handsome under the mask as he sounded. He was likely not single either. Someone that well built and seemingly happy couldn’t be unattached.

Peacock turned to him and said, “King of the Jungle! And your suit matches. Brilliant! All I did was hand stitch some peacock feathers on my coat tail. But when I sat down I crushed them so I had to remove them. You two seem well coordinated. You should win best masquerade costumes tonight. I’ll vote for you!”

“They have a contest?” asked Steve in some dismay.

“Just some cheesy prizes, like stuff from the gift shops and the like,” Peacock shrugged. “Its mostly just about having fun.”

Steve nodded, pulled Nat’s chair out so she could sit and pushed her back in. He then sat between Peacock and Nat, hyper aware of the other man for some disconcerting reason.

“Looks like we’re the only table of three,” Nat noted looking around. Steve jolted. He hadn’t noticed that but Nat was right. Their little table only had three chairs.

“If you two want to cozy, I can mingle once things get started,” offered Peacock graciously. Steve flushed behind his mask. Peacock thought he and Nat were together.

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” he hastened to say. “Nat’s my best friend. I guess we haven’t introduced ourselves. I’m Steve and this is Nat.” He held out a hand for a shake, which Peacock obliged.

“I’m Bucky. Well, James, but everyone calls me Bucky.” Steve got the impression that Bucky was nervous and it endeared the man to Steve even more.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky,” Nat said, leaning over Steve for a handshake as well. “We’ll all have to hit the dance floor as soon as the music starts up. Steve,” and here she dug an elbow into his side, “is a terrible dancer so any chance I can get to watch him humiliate himself on the dance floor is a good time for me.”

Steve turned to her, knowing she couldn’t see his expression behind the lion mask, but he knew she would know he was scowling at her. “Nat!” he hissed.

Bucky however only chuckled. “I’ll make sure you look at least adequate, Steve. I’m a great dancer. I teach dancing, in fact, so I know everything from ballroom to the latest hiphop.”

‘Great’, Steve thought to himself. “I can waltz,” Steve offered.

Nat snorted in derision but said nothing.

Bucky laughed. “If they play a waltz I’m your partner for it.”

The idea of dancing with this cheerful, well-built man made Steve’s stomach flip flop with excitement. Though slightly constricted by the peacock’s masks ties, Bucky’s hair was a mane of dark brown in the dim lights of the ballroom. It looked soft and silky and Steve longed to finger it to see if felt like it looked.

They chatted amiably about the cruise and its entertainments thus far. Like Steve, this was Bucky’s first cruise, an experiment to see if he wanted to take a Mediterranean cruise next year. That got them talking about places they’d traveled too and their occupations. For a dance instructor, Bucky was very well traveled, Steve thought.

“So, Steve the writer, what do you write?”

“Espionage thrillers but I’m thinking of branching out,” Steve confessed. “I’ve had a pirate historical percolating in my head for sometime now, thus this cruise.”

Bucky leaned back lazily in his chair, extenuating his lanky, but well-built physique. He had long legs and a slim waist that was hugged by his suit jacket that looked dark blue in the room’s dim light. “Would your editor go for a change in what you write like that?”

“He suggested that I try something different. He’d suggested something Roman but I think Rome’s overdone. Everyone does ancient Rome,” Steve told him. “I want to do something out of the ordinary.”

“Lots of intrigue with the colonial times and pirates of the Caribbean,” mused Bucky. 

A waiter came around to them finally and took their drink orders. Steve ordered a Crown Royal, Nat a mai tai and Bucky some wine. Steve swallowed. That was classy, wine.

Music started up, an old Glenn Miller number that Steve thought was “In the Mood”. Bucky seemed to perk up in his seat and bounced to his feet, holding a hand out to Nat. “Do you swing?” he asked enthusiastically.

Nat shook her head but said gamely, “I’m willing to learn though.” Bucky swept her out on the dance floor and Steve heart sunk. Obviously, Bucky was into women, not men. Steve’s ideas of a little flirtation this evening went down the toilet. He morosely watched Bucky teach Nat some basic swing dance steps, which she picked up quickly, and soon the two were bopping around the dance floor. Steve tried not to feel disgruntled, as his best friend was having a good time, but he couldn’t help it.

The dance ended and the two returned to the table and their delivered drinks. Nat took a hefty sip of her mai tai, her mask flipped up to reveal her face. Steve had done the same. He wanted to look at Bucky’s face as he drank his wine but Steve was afraid he’d find him more attractive, and thus be further disappointed.

Hors d'oeuvres came by and they each got a small plateful of nibbles, chatting easily, though Steve only answered questions when asked and volunteered nothing. He was pouting and he knew it, but couldn’t help himself. Nat kept shooting him disapproving looks, which Steve ignored.

Unbelievably a waltz came on and Bucky stood, holding a hand out to Steve. “You said you could waltz?” It would be rude to refuse so Steve stood up and joined Bucky on the dancefloor where other couples were revolving. “Me lead or you?” asked Bucky.

Steve swallowed nervously. “You.”

Bucky took control of them and Steve unaccountably relaxed in his partner’s arms, the warmth of his body and the smell of his rich cologne making Steve’s senses reel. “I have to confess,” Bucky said behind his peacock mask. “I was sure that you and Nat were a couple.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve seen you around the ship. She’s always hanging off you.”

“Nat’s very tactile,” Steve explained. “She’s always hugging and stuff.”

“Mm,” was all Bucky said to that. “I also have to admit I was jealous of her.”

Steve’s heart stuttered at the words. “Jealous?”

“Yeah,” Bucky continued, “that she had such a handsome guy at her beck and call and not me.”

“Oh.” Steve swallowed. Did that mean…?

“So, you can imagine my delight when you announced tonight that you’re just friends.”

Steve stopped the dance and pulled them to the side of the dance floor. “Bucky, would you like to join us tomorrow when we land on Antigua?”

Bucky tipped up first his mask, revealing a huge, delighted grin, and then tipped up Steve’s mask, who was grinning back. “I’d love to get to know you better, Steve.”

Steve couldn’t help himself. He dipped down for a kiss. Bucky’s lips were warm and plush and he tasted faintly of the white wine he’d been drinking. He dimly heard some laughter and clapping and it brought him from the feeling of the kiss to his surroundings.

“Ah, love is in the air at the jungle masquerade,” said the band announcer. 

Both Steve and Bucky blushed but Bucky tugged Steve over to their table, where Nat was sitting there looking smug. “I told you it would be the trip of a lifetime,” she hissed at Steve as he sat down, hand still clasped in Bucky’s.

“Oh, shut up,” Steve said happily.


End file.
